“He didn’t want you to know, but the symptoms are getting too noticeable.”
“You mean the aches and pains? The tired look that seems to be getting worse?” Alexa felt her stomach roil with nervousness. A serious face from Tyler wasn’t to be taken lightly. “What’s going on, Tyler? Tell me right now.”
Tyler paused as if searching for the right words. His expression was pained as he finally spoke.
“Grant’s been poisoned. It happened last week at the Eiffel Tower when all of the leaders who have been getting sick and dying were exposed.”
She stared at him, dumbstruck for a moment. “I can’t believe it.”
“You’ve seen how sick he’s been getting over the last couple of days. It’s worse than he’s letting on.”
“This is…it’s horrible. How long has he got?”
“Days maybe. We don’t know for sure.”
“My God! He should be in a hospital!”
“I told him the same thing, but he wouldn’t do it. You think
I’m
stubborn.”
“What can we do?” Alexa asked.
“We’re doing it. The toxicologists are working on an antidote, but without a better understanding of the poison’s chemical structure, I’m not convinced they can create one in time. If that Nazi notebook is right, finding the Loch Ness monster and getting a sample of it might be his only chance.”
Alexa could see the toll Grant’s illness was taking on Tyler. She hadn’t seen him this distressed since the aftermath of Karen’s funeral. “How long will it take them to synthesize an antidote?”
“Once they have the sample? I spoke to Agent Harris yesterday. She said the toxicologists think it will only take a matter of hours to manufacture the antidote. If the Nazi formula is correct, that is.”
“Does she believe Laroche now?”
“She’s still pretty skeptical, but they’re getting desperate enough to try it if we come up with the goods.”
“Desperate enough to get the British authorities to crack open the stag heads?”
“We’ll see,” Tyler said.
“And even if we find something that helps us track down Nessie, do we have the resources to do it?”
“Miles gave us carte blanche. The
Sedna
passed through the Caledonian Canal from the North Sea last night, and they’ve begun a grid pattern search from the midpoint of the loch. But with nothing else to go on, the search could take weeks and still not find a trace of the creature.”
“Then John Edmonstone is our best chance.”
“No,” Tyler said, “he’s our only chance.”
The rest of the walk through the castle grounds had been silent, Alexa’s hugged her jacket close to her body to fend off the wind. She thought about all the teasing she’d done with Grant and now felt guilty about it. He’d known all that time that he was dying and didn’t say a word.
They crossed the courtyard to the Great Hall, but she stopped when she saw a CLOSED sign on the door.
“That’s odd,” she said. “Are they still setting up the exhibit?”
“Doesn’t seem likely. Dr. MacNeil said that they installed it last week.”
“Then why would it be closed?”
“I don’t know. Dammit. We need to get in there now.” Tyler turned and pointed to a man crossing the courtyard. “There’s an employee. I’ll find out what’s going on.”
He made a beeline for the worker. Alexa pressed her ear to the door. She heard voices inside.
“Wait, Tyler,” she called to him. “Someone’s in there. Let’s ask them.” He turned and jogged back toward her.
She pushed the door and found that it wasn’t locked. She eased it open and saw two men in employee’s uniforms.
“Excuse me,” she said, entering the antechamber.
One of the men, a humorless blond with glasses, put up his hands and rushed over to her. “I’m sorry, ma’am. We’re closed for renovations.”
“I just wanted to look at one of the exhibits—”
“You’ll have to come back later.” He made a shooing motion with his hand.
“Well, when are you reopening?” By this time, Tyler had joined her, the door closing behind him.
“I don’t know, ma’am. You have to leave.” He put his hand on her shoulder and turned her forcefully while the other man moved to the door.
“Hey! You don’t have to shove me.”
She ran into Tyler, unyielding as granite. He was fixated on the interior of the Great Hall, his eyes filled with a rage she’d never before seen in her brother.
“Zim,” he whispered.
During the milliseconds it took Tyler to process that Zim was in the empty Great Hall prying apart the stag head trophy, he assessed his predicament. Not only was he outnumbered three to one, but Alexa was now in harm’s way. But if he simply ran out with her in tow, he’d leave Zim to destroy possibly the only chance to find Grant’s cure.
Alexa’s immediate safety won. Tyler turned and punched the blond man who had pushed Alexa, breaking his glasses and sending him sprawling. He grabbed Alexa’s hand and went for the door, but the blond guy’s partner was already there. The man tackled Tyler, and they went tumbling through the archway into the cavernous Great Hall. Tyler went down hard on his recovering arm, but the rush of adrenaline helped him ignore the sudden stab of pain.
He rolled and sprang to his feet next to a suit of armor. He plucked the helmet from its stand and swung it around, connecting with the guy’s skull. The glancing blow sent him to his knees.
Alexa was tripped by the blond and scrabbled her way into the hall, the man tugging at her pant leg in an attempt to stop her. She threw a kick at his face, hard enough for him to release her. She ran for Tyler, and he placed her protectively behind him.
Zim was paying scant attention to the fight. He dug into the neck of the deer and extracted a cylindrical object, letting the crumpled paper around it fall to hardwood. Zim looked puzzled as he drew the object out, obviously not the journal they’d been looking for.
It was a clear glass jar. There seemed to be something floating in a liquid.
Zim stared at it in confusion, then a look of comprehension came over his face and he smiled at Tyler, a sinister grin that sent a chill down his spine. He needed a better weapon than the helmet if he and Alexa were going to survive this.
That’s when Tyler noticed the hall was literally brimming with blades. He nearly let out a whoop of joy when he realized that they had a fighting chance. It wasn’t great, but he was elated to have any chance at all.
He snatched a five-foot-long halberd from its clamp on the wall and shoved it into Alexa’s hands. With a spear on the end, a spike on one side and a cleaver-shaped blade on the other, it was a menacing weapon. Although Alexa looked terrified, she stuck it out in front of her. He hoped she didn’t actually use it as anything but a bluff. An errant swing would slice him just as easily as it would the bad guys.
Tyler drew a saber from the rack and took a defensive posture next to her. He’d never fought with a sword in his life, but he was betting Zim and his men hadn’t either.
The blond grabbed two short swords and criss-crossed them like he was sharpening knives. The mustached man selected a huge claymore, a two-handed broadsword that lent its name to a type of explosive mine. Zim picked a saber of his own, the jar held gingerly in his other hand. They circled around Tyler and Alexa.
“Zim,” Tyler said as calmly as he could, “why don’t you put that specimen down and leave?”
“Because it’s three to one and a half.”
Alexa sounded peeved. “I’m supposed to be half?”
“Besides, why would I give up my best chance to take care of you both at the same time?”
“Because we’re not out on some isolated country estate,” Tyler said. “There’s no way you’re getting out of here without being caught.”
“Oh, you’re wrong about that,” Zim said, then barked at his men. “Kill them.”
Blond and mustache rushed at them.
Tyler thought this would be a good time to raise the alarm. He howled with his best battle cry as he steeled himself for the assault. Alexa followed suit with a guttural scream. No one in the courtyard outside would fail to hear them. They had to hope the cavalry would arrive before there was nothing to do but mop up their remains.
Either through miscommunication or not taking Alexa seriously as a threat, both men went after Tyler. The blond’s short swords swirled, but his aim was off due to his missing glasses. Metal clanged against Tyler’s saber. He had to leap back to avoid a swipe from the second sword, and then sidestepped an overhead chop of the mustached man’s claymore, which took a massive chunk out of the floor.
Tyler was hoping Alexa would take the opportunity to make a run for it, but he should have known she wouldn’t leave him to be slaughtered. Gripping the handle of the halberd like the bat she’d used in college softball, she swung the weapon around, her eyes locked onto her distracted target.
The spike pierced the blond man’s ribs, and his swords clattered to the floor. He collapsed backward, wrenching the halberd from Alexa’s hands. She stood there staring at what she’d done, mute.
The mustached man sprang back to action. He reared back for another strike of the claymore. It was only when he experienced the inertia involved with the backswing of such a huge weapon, though, that his face registered he might have selected not only an intimidating weapon, but also one that was unwieldy.
Before the man could swing the claymore on its down stroke, Tyler thrust forward and stabbed the saber through his heart. The mustached man looked down in surprise at the blood soaking his shirt and then fell backward, motionless as soon as he hit the floor, the claymore clattering to the ground next to him.
Zim stalked toward them, a menacing sneer on his face, and Tyler honestly didn’t know whether he could win. He was already huffing from the battle so far, while Zim was fresh. And by the looks of her, Alexa wasn’t going to be able to repeat her prowess with the blade. Tyler not only was on his own, but he had to protect her as well.
Zim slashed his sword toward Tyler, who blocked it with the saber. He grabbed Zim’s wrist, drawing him into a clinch, Zim’s fetid breath hot on Tyler’s face.
In the brief glimpse Tyler got, he could see two things: an organic piece of skin and flesh floated in the clear liquid, and a label on the jar clearly spelled out “Loch Ness.”
Zim might be holding the only known tissue sample from the Loch Ness monster, hidden by John Edmonstone two hundred years ago. If Tyler could get it from him, their search would be over.
“This isn’t going to get your brother back, Zim,” Tyler said. “Either one of them.”
“This isn’t about getting them back. It’s about justice.”
“You mean revenge.”
Zim’s lips spread in a vile grin. “Semantics.”
The door to the hall flew open. Four men rushed through holding batons, their radios cackling.
“Gotta go,” Zim said and heaved Tyler back. Still gripping the jar, he ran for the door, swinging the sword wildly, creating a wide path through the outmatched rescuers.
“Stay here,” Tyler shouted to Alexa and took off in pursuit.
He exploded out of the door. Instead of the exit, Zim was angling toward the café. Tyler sprinted after him, the saber still in his hand.
He burst through the café door and saw another door closing inside. Tyler gave chase and flung the door open, his weapon at the ready.
As he entered, he realized it was the men’s lavatory. He found Zim inside, the jar poised above the toilet. Zim turned it over, and the contents splashed into the bowl.
“No!” Tyler yelled, but he couldn’t stop Zim as he flushed the last known bit of the Loch Ness monster into the sewer.
“You bastard!” Tyler shouted, and raised his saber for the final battle. The only thing that stopped him was the pump action of two shotguns.
“Police!” one of the men called out. “Drop your weapons!”
Tyler grimaced and dropped the saber only after Zim let go of his sword. They each put up their hands and were thrown against the wall.
As handcuffs were laced around his wrists, Tyler was face to face with Zim. The former prisoner didn’t seem to have a care in the world as he smiled at Tyler with undisguised glee.
Brielle was able to get Grant out of Holyrood Palace and into a taxi before they could be detained by the police. Tyler’s phone hadn’t yet been replaced, so she tried Alexa repeatedly, but the call kept going to voicemail. No reason to panic yet, but troubling nonetheless.
With Edmonstone’s journal in hand, they had to head straight to Loch Ness, so she and Grant went to the nearest rental facility and hired the only standard sedan in the lot. She raced over to the train station to retrieve their bags and purchased a disposable mobile phone from a kiosk.
For the next fifteen minutes, they tried calling Alexa and got no answer. By that time, Grant was feeling well enough to drive, so he let Brielle out as close to the castle as he could and went off to find a place to wait for her call.
She walked the block to the esplanade in front of the castle and was stopped by a cadre of armed policemen. Tourists streamed out of the castle, and none were being let inside.
She waved to a policeman. “Sir, why can’t we go in?”
“There’s been a death inside the castle.”
Brielle’s stomach dropped. “Who was it?”
“We don’t know yet. Please step back.”
She called Grant, her heart hammering.
“Did you find them?” he asked.
“No. The castle’s closed off because of a death inside.”
“Are Tyler and Alexa okay?”
“I don’t know. They won’t let anybody in or answer any questions.”
“Dammit! I’ll be right there. I have to make a call.”
He hung up. The policemen pushed the crowd back, allowing a convoy of three patrol cars to pass out of the castle, their sirens wailing. Brielle strained to see who was inside, but they flashed by too quickly to get a good look. They were followed by two ambulances, leaving a dozen emergency vehicles at the entrance.
Brielle dashed back to where Grant dropped her off, arriving just as he did. He hopped out and got in the passenger seat.